


And I Can See For Miles

by magnuspr1m3



Series: Marvel Oneshots [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt Pietro Maximoff, Maximoff Twin Feels, Other, not really a fix-it but sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnuspr1m3/pseuds/magnuspr1m3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At speed, nothing can touch you, Wanda had said to him a few days ago. But standing still? At the time he had lashed out, swearing he did not want to be. She assumed he meant shot, but oh no. He meant standing still. Dealing with the torture of things just not moving quick enough. But, when he moved? There was no true win, aside from ridding his bones of the ache and stopping the vibrations of his muscles for just a brief second.</p>
<p>She had been wrong, though. Even at speed, it seemed, he could be shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Can See For Miles

Pietro could easily mark this day as one of the best and strangest days of his life. Mind you, the bullet that grazed his arm earlier had not been fun, but this? The purpose? It was unlike anything he had previously experienced; better than Ultron or Hydra. A _real_ reason to use his speed, and to use it for something truly good. To save not only his people, but the world.

The view just so happened to be a nice bonus.

Only Wanda was likely to understand how he could possibly take it all in going so fast constantly. He could try and explain it to the other avengers later, but doubted they could ever understand. Perhaps the captain would, but he was the only one that Pietro thought might. What Hydra did to him did not just change how quick he moved and metabolized things. It changed how quick _everything_ happened for him. Or, rather, it slowed everything else down. It was almost unbearable to be still sometimes, but moving fast? Moving fast made everything else practically stop. He was not always certain which was a worse fate.

_At speed, nothing can touch you_ , Wanda had said to him a few days ago. _But standing still?_ At the time he had lashed out, swearing he did not want to be. She assumed he meant shot, but oh no. He meant standing still. Dealing with the torture of things just not moving quick enough. But, when he moved? There was no true win, aside from ridding his bones of the ache and stopping the vibrations of his muscles for just a brief second.

She had been wrong, though. Even at speed, it seemed, he could be shot. That stray bullet had proven that theory wrong. He just had to move faster, then. He had to push himself harder, to make sure that every single one of these civilians, his people, got to safety before Wanda and Stark destroyed the city. Hopefully, he would get Wanda to safety before that happened as well, if he could be quick enough.

The boats filled quickly, all of the Avengers aside from the big green one – the doctor had been nice, but the green one? Oh no. – and Natasha had pitched in to help get people on them. It was quick work. Especially quick for him. He easily snagged those who were injured and carried them to the boats before dashing off to help the next. Before he knew it, the last boat was being filled and he was getting ready to hop on.

He heard an odd noise, though, on the wind. It caught his attention, head snapping to the side. _Gunfire_. Why on Earth would there be gunfire? They had eliminated most of the bots, and nearly all of the police officers were on board with the civilians. It was quick, punctuated. He scowled, staring and watching as bullets slowly pelted the ground coming from some sort of weird jet. Who-

_There were people in the way_. He spotted the first one fall, then another, bodies crashing slowly to the dirty street beneath them. There was another, as well as the Captain and Thor. If Pietro just moved quick enough, he could possibly grab each of them, get them to safety and dodge each of the rounds. He braced himself for probably the quickest dash of his life, inhaling deeply, before he froze as he caught something’s out of the corner of his eye. The Hawk man, Clint, with a little boy in his arms. Pietro’s heart slid to a halt, body tensing. There was no way he could reach all five people, and if he did not act immediately, the other officer in the way would get shot any moment. Thor and the Captain? They would heal. The Hawk and that little boy? There was no way they could survive that. Neither would the officer, but how was he to weigh that life as being worth more than those two? He could never justify it. Not with how the Hawk had seemed to take so easily to him and Wanda. It had obviously been rough at first, with Pietro nearly getting the man killed, yet the man had forgiven him and welcomed them both to the team.

Perhaps this was redemption.

He was wasting too much time thinking, and the jet was coming near. He doubted he could make the run back with them without endangering all three of their lives in that spray of bullets. Maybe if he really pushed himself, but was it worth the risk to them to push his limits that much now? There was a little boy’s life at stake if he did not move _now_. He bounced on the balls of his feet, taking one quick breath, and surging forward. He may not be able to carry them back, but there was plenty of wreckage. If he could just shield them, they may be safe.

The car turned on its side was the easiest choice, given the angle it was at. He threw himself into it, forcing it forward and ignoring a very sudden, sharp pain in his body. He pushed forwarding, snapping to a halt when the car was in front of them and leaving his hands up as he seemed to struggle to keep his balance. There was quite a lot of dirt and rubble around. It made it hard to keep your footing, even with reflexes as fast as his. He tried to take a few breaths as he stopped, watching the Hawk look slowly up at him from the little boy. It was difficult to breathe. His lungs just could not get enough air into them. They _hurt_. He _hurt_ , really.

The man’s face looked horrified briefly as he looked at Pietro, which prompted him to take a brief glance down. _Oh_. Nine bullet holes in his body that he could. Nine dark patches on the nice blue suit that Stark had given him. A couple in his chest, which explained his difficulty breathing. He saw one in his right thigh that likely was the cause of his instability. Or maybe that was the blood loss. Because it spread pretty quickly on his clothes for having just been shot. His movements at such a high speed must not have helped there. But, he had protected them both. They were uninjured. He could…

He could just sleep it off. A nap would not hurt him. He felt rather tired, really. It had been a long day.

“You didn’t see that coming.” Pietro mumbled with one last exhale before collapsing to the ground with the thought of the gorgeous view he had seen today. He had been able to see around Sokovia for miles, and while the circumstances were not optimal, he would never forget it. It had been beautiful. His life…

It had ended, but with a beautiful sky above him. He focused on that as he drifted. On the beautiful blue above him, blue like his mother’s eyes, his eyes, and the distant feeling of the dirt beneath his fingertips. He was ending, but for a reason, the _right reason_. His vision swam, and in it he saw the Hawk surge towards him, one hand pressing to a wound on his chest and the other to his pulse point. He looked so distraught above Pietro, not saying a thing as he hovered over him.

Once, years ago, he had put his body between his dear twin sister and the shell that fell before them, to shield her and keep her safe. And he would continue to protect her, from bullies and perverts and handsy hydra scientists. Sometimes even herself. But, he had only ever fought to protect her. Never anyone else. He had imagined he would die doing just that.

It felt oddly gratify to float out of consciousness thinking that he had somehow managed to save more than just one person in his entire life now, to have made a difference in the world. He could die happy knowing that.

**Author's Note:**

> This one had just been stuck in my bed since seeing this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=Qv5vXhcYVeA which is absolutely heartbreaking. So, I wrote this. Sorry if it is not up to par, but I just had to get it out.


End file.
